


like real people do

by takethebreadsticksandRUN



Series: Give Breadsticks A Prompt! [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, F/M, GNC sasha, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of kissing, M/M, Martin is The Best, No beta we kayak like Tim, background jonmartin, getting drunk is always a good idea, post ill-advised hookup, they are ultimate bi solidarity together guys, tim plays matchmaker to those oblivious idiots, timsasha request for neontearsjpg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28518525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethebreadsticksandRUN/pseuds/takethebreadsticksandRUN
Summary: Sasha James, resident genius of the Archives, made a mistake. A big mistake. An I-slept-with-my-crush-then-told-him-we-couldn't-be-together level mistake. Thankfully, Tim acted like nothing happened between them. She should be happy with this. This should be enough.So why isn't she satisfied?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: Give Breadsticks A Prompt! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081154
Comments: 18
Kudos: 44





	like real people do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neontearsjpg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neontearsjpg/gifts).



> Another fic from the request I got, a little TimSasha for the soul. neontearsjpg this is for you! I hope y'all enjoy. This is unbeta'd and very late at night so I'll check for mistakes and edit the tags tomorrow, lmk know if there's something I should change.  
> OH ALSO BEFORE I FORGET  
> Sasha is GNC here. It's not that big of a deal in the fic but just know that although she is fine presenting female, she isn't a woman. For more info read neontearsjpg's fic that I based my head canon off of.  
> Enjoy!  
> xxx

Sasha James prided herself on being able to handle anything life threw her way. Middle school bullies? Easy, just outsmart them _and_ beat them up. A double gender-and-sexuality crisis in high school? No biggie, just go with the flow and be yourself. Not knowing what you want to do after university? Doesn’t matter, just be incredible at whatever thing you were currently doing and you’re set.

Even when faced with the struggles of figuring out how to research paranormal “statements,” Sasha knew how to hold her own. In between debunking drunks and crazies, she scraped up enough computer skills to quickly be known as one of the most proficient hackers in the greater London area.

That was probably why she had been recommended to the Archives. It was quite the jump from Artifact Storage but hey, she wasn’t complaining. The pay was good, the work was _much_ better, and her co-workers were pretty decent people.

A little _too_ decent.

As capable as she was, Sasha was faced with a problem not even she could solve. In fact, she had created the problem herself, something that would most likely haunt her until the day she died.

“You’ve got this, James,” she told her reflection firmly, rinsing the last suds of soap off her face. “You can do this.”

_This_ was walking into work like nothing had happened.

_This_ was pretending that she hadn’t spent most of the weekend in a daze, switching rapidly between heartbroken and hopeful.

_This_ was knowing that she had ruined one of the best relationships she had ever had.

_This_ was suddenly seeming very, very difficult.

She sighed, shrugging into a dress shirt. She pretended not to notice how her hands shook as she did up the buttons. _You’ve got this_ , she repeated. Sasha looked in the mirror one last time, taking in the crisp jacket, tie, and slacks.

“You look handsome,” she said, winking. Part of her daily routine, something she’d done since she was a young child.

It didn’t feel as comforting as it used to.

Part of her knew how shaken she was internally and couldn’t reconcile that with the put-together businessperson in the mirror.

_Well, it’s off to work. Time to face the dragon._

~~~

“Morning, Sasha!”

She waved at Rosie, hoping her uneasiness wasn’t showing on her face. “Morning, Rosie. Did you have a good weekend?”

“Oh yes, it was lovely, I met up with a few friends from uni for a little catch-up. Did you?”

Sasha winced, thinking of the number of cheesy rom-coms she’d cried through. “It was alright,” she said haltingly. “A little rough, but at least it’s over.”

_It’s over it’s over it’s over it’s over-_

Rosie nodded sympathetically, her voice following Sasha down the stairs. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sasha, you only deserve the best.”

_Do I, though? I mucked it all up and now I don’t know what I’ll do. Why did I have to go home with him? I couldn’t let things lie where they were, now it’s all ruined and I can’t lose him. Not again._

She took a deep breath before walking into the break room, clutching her lunch in definitely _not_ shaking hands.

To her relief, only Martin was there, messing about with something in one of the cupboards. He turned to her as she walked in, a smile rising easily to his lips. “Morning, Sasha!” he said cheerfully.

She forced herself to smile back, hating the sick feeling of freedom in her stomach. “Martin, my love, how goes the Archives on this fair morning?”

He shrugged, leaning against the refrigerator. “Same old, same old. Jon’s holed up in his office, doubt he ever _left_ , Tim’s late, as usual, and Elias is nowhere to be seen, just the way I like it.”

She laughed, hoping he didn’t notice how hollow it felt. “If he dares show his face around here,” Sasha growled teasingly, “I’ll give him one of these-“ She jabbed at the air over Martin’s shoulder. “and one of _these_ -“ She pretended to sweep his legs out from under him. “and _this_ -“ For a finale of her impromptu shadow-boxing show, she mimed putting someone into a headlock.

Martin laughed. “I’d pay to see you just absolutely _deck_ that little twink.”

“Hope you aren’t talking about me.”

They both turned to the doorway, to see Tim standing there.

_Oh._

_Oh no._

He was smiling, his teeth perfectly straight ( _perfection should be a crime punishable by death_ ). He walked easily into the room, hopefully not noticing the way Sasha’s breath caught in her throat.

It hurt to see him so nonchalant. Sasha turned away, ignoring the way her eyes were pricking. She felt like someone had given her a lollipop that shattered in her mouth, coating her tongue in bitterness and burning her chest with every thump of her heart.

_Tim deserves better_ , she thought. _And we weren’t going to work out. We were **never** going to work._

He didn’t look at her, so she pretended she hadn’t been looking at him. Sasha noticed that he was dressed less flamboyantly than usual, his shirt patterned with somber pink flowers instead of his _I-got-railed-this-weekend_ Hawaiian shirt. Whenever he showed up in that shirt, the whole team knew they would soon be suggested to thinly-veiled references to his passionate conquests.

He wasn’t wearing it now, a fact for which she was _extremely_ grateful.

Martin explained, “Sasha was just explaining what she would do to Elias if he showed up here.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Violence, this early in the morning? Sasha, I’m astonished. Violence is _never_ the answer.”

The way he said her name had her heart on a balance beam. “Violence is always the answer,” she replied automatically. “Because it’s _funny_.”

Martin made an offended noise.

“Do you think Elias-“ Tim spat the name like a swear word that would make the vilest sailor’s ears bleed. “- _really_ deserves mercy?”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “But let the records show I did not encourage any of this.”

“Records?” Tim laughed. “For what?”

“Court, obviously.”

Sasha bit back a chuckle. She didn’t say anything, not knowing exactly _what_ to say. On one hand, it made her life easier that Tim was acting like nothing had happened, but on the other hand, it bruised a part of her she didn’t know existed to see him so carefree and _normal_.

_Did I really think I would have the pleasure of breaking Timothy Stoker’s heart?_

She picked up her lunch and opened the fridge door, gently nudging Martin aside so she could put it inside.

“Well, lads, I think it’s time we got back to work, hm?”

They both groaned. Tim cleared his throat almost hesitantly. “Er, Sasha, could I have a word with you?”

She turned back around, plastering on a smile. “Of course!” she said, her voice too cheerful.

Martin muttered goodbyes and stepped out, leaving the two of them alone.

As awkward as the silence was, Sasha knew she wouldn’t be the first to break it. Who knew what more damage her words could do?

“Sasha, I-“ He cleared his throat again. “I just wanted to make sure this doesn’t change anything between us.”

“I’m sorry,” she said dumbly, not knowing what to say. Her own words floated back to her through a haze, not-so-distant memories of Tim’s bedroom, lazily lit by morning sunlight. _This can’t happen again._

He hadn’t asked why but she had given him an explanation. It was a load of bullcrap, but she knew she had to say something. _I’m sorry, Tim, but this won’t work out. I had a great time, but…we’re just coworkers messing around, right?_

He had agreed. Sasha could feel him swallow as she rested against his side, staring at the ceiling and trying not to cry or tell him how much she liked him. _It’s for the best_ , she said, trying to convince both of them but mostly herself.

Tim had a reputation, one she admired no small amount, but a reputation nonetheless. His past partners were short-lived and each of them were spectacular, gorgeous people who were leagues ahead of herself. After all, who would like her? She was a mess, a disaster, a high-strung not-quite-woman who didn’t know how to tell him what she felt.

So she didn’t, landing her in this situation.

Tim looked her in the eyes for the first time since she had left his apartment Saturday morning. “Hey, don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “I don’t regret it, but I do agree- it can’t happen again. But don’t _ever_ apologize, you hear me?”

Sasha nodded, biting back another _I’m sorry_.

“I don’t want to lose you, Sash, you’re one of my best friends.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” _I already did, you slipped through my fingers like soap and I’m not sure I can handle going back to what we were before but what choice do I have?_ “You’re one of my closest friends too.” She smiled at him, trying for warmth, and was consoled when he smiled back.

She hated that she knew _exactly_ how that smile would feel pressed against her shoulder, her throat, her lips-

“Good, good.” Tim shot her with double finger-guns, his signature move, or at least according to him. Sasha thought it magnified his chaotic-bisexual energy by a factor of at least ten, but then again, that was probably what he was going for. “Friends?”

“Always, Stoker, whether you like it or not.”

He laughed, a sound that still gave her stomach butterflies. “That’s my line, James.”

_Maybe,_ she thought, _just maybe, we’ll be okay_.

~~~

Although they had talked things through more than she expected, Sasha did not anticipate how much it would _hurt_ in the weeks to come. Outside, she joked and laughed with him, slipping easily into the best-friend-and-cool-mom of their little group, going about her mostly-legal work as usual.

Inside, though, was another story.

Tim had been more reserved toward her physically, carefully avoiding touching her waist as he passed, tucking his long limbs in close to his body when they sat next to each other, and dialing back his level of touch that he normally integrated into almost every conversation.

The result was to make every accidental touch that couldn’t be avoided stand out starkly in her memory, the briefest touch of skin on skin burning and reassuring at the same time. Then Tim would look at her, a flash of panic in his eyes, and her stomach would turn to lead as fast as he would back away.

Sasha knew she was acting ridiculous. That was the _problem_. She _knew_ she was acting like a heartbroken teenager, thinking about every accidental brush like some sort of base-system, tallying up the places he had mapped out his- not love, _never_ love, but…care? Passion? the night she ruined everything and comparing them with the spots he had inadvertently set alight most recently.

She fought to keep a hint of coolness in her voice at all times, trying to keep him and her feelings both at arm’s length. That would make them easier to manage, right?

That was the problem. Even the prickliest person alive would have a hard time keeping their distance from Tim Stoker, the magnetic man in every social circle he commanded. Against her every wish she was drawn back into his (and at times, Martin’s) easy camaraderie.

Sasha, for her part, had thought she had done a remarkably good job at _not_ falling in love with him the first time around.

She had seen how well that went.

She was having remarkably similar luck keeping her feelings silent the second time.

If Tim noticed her giving him more space than usual, he didn’t say anything. _He’s probably grateful,_ she thought ruefully.

Martin, however, _bless him_ , caught on to her remarkably quickly. He approached her on their lunch break on a day when Tim was out of the office on some research trip for Jon.

“Sasha, is everything alright?” he asked hesitantly. “You’ve been…a little _off_ , lately.”

She was touched by his concern and care but wasn’t sure what to say. “I…”

“Did Tim do something?”

Sasha was shocked into a laugh. “Er, kind of? _How_ did you figure that one out?”

He fidgeted with his fork self-consciously. “I just…notice these things, I guess. What happened? If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”

Sasha looked at her hands. “I messed up,” she said quietly. “Big-time. I don’t know what to do, Martin. We slept together a few weeks ago, but then I- I messed it all up.”

He sucked in a breath, letting it whistle out of his teeth. “Sounds messy,” he said sympathetically.

She nodded mutely.

“If you need anyone to talk to, I’m always here. And I know for a _fact_ there isn’t a problem Sasha James can’t solve.”

“Thanks, Martin,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now, if that’s alright? Especially not when there’s someone else who has something _interesting_ to talk about.” Sasha waggled her eyebrows, nodding toward Jon’s office.

Martin immediately turned bright red. “Wh-what? There’s nothing to be- that’s to say, it would be totally inappropriate…what makes you think that I, I-“ He dropped his fork with a clatter.

Sasha laughed. “Sure, sure, whatever you say, Martin.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” came a voice from behind them. Sasha’s pulse skyrocketed- _had he heard what we were talking about?_

“Tim!” Martin squeaked as he sat down next to them, plopping his reheated curry on the table.

“All I’m saying is only a guilty person tries to hide something, and you, sir-“ He pointed at Martin accusingly. “are _definitely_ trying to hide something.”

Sasha laughed. “You’re right,” she said conspiratorially. “What do you think it is, Tim?”

“That he’s got a big old gay crush on our boss, Jonathan “I don’t have time for sleep or food” Sims,” he stage-whispered back.

Martin spluttered indignantly. “I do _not_!”

Tim mimed putting on a pair of glasses. “Allow me to put on my skep-tacles.”

Sasha snorted.

He peered at Martin through his fingers. “Yep, you’re lying.”

“Am not!”

Tim turned to Sasha. “The only question is, how do we get him to do anything about it?”

Martin stood up, huffing. “There’s nothing to do, guys.” He left the room, muttering something that contained the words _Jon_ and _embarrassing._

“Oh, he’s definitely hiding something,” Tim noted with satisfaction.

“So what are we going to do about it?” Sasha asked teasingly, wishing again for something that she couldn’t have.

He smirked. “Just leave that to me. You might be a genius in the fields of computer technology, espionage, chemical warfare, modern surveillance, and working with Jon-“

“Almost entirely true, not quite-“

Tim shushed her. “Let me finish. But you should leave the matchmaking to me.” He rubbed his hands together in mock-glee, reminiscent of a thief about to snatch up a priceless jewel.

She sighed. “Alright, I know you won’t leave me alone until I let you talk, so…spill. What’s the game plan, Stoker?”

He winked. “I’m glad you asked.”

Sasha was once again grateful that she couldn’t blush.

~~~

Sasha knocked on the office door. “Hey, Jon?”

She heard a muffled reply from within and pushed open the door. Jon looked up from some massive pile of papers, a pen tucked between his teeth and ink on his fingertips. “What is it?” he asked, seeming disgruntled at the interruption.

“We’re going out for drinks tonight and were wondering if you’d like to come.”

_Step one: invite Jon out for drinks._

He blinked at her like a cat. “…drinks?”

Sasha smiled brightly. “Yes, Jon, _drinks_. Like adult friends do.”

“Who’s coming?”

_Step two: convince Jon to accept the invitation from step one._

“Just me, Tim, and Martin.”

Sasha paid close attention to his reaction to Martin’s name. Jon started, not enough to be noticeable to the casual observer, but to someone who knew most of Jon’s quirks and movements extremely well, it was a definite start.

He hummed noncommittally. “I don’t know, there’s a lot of work I need to finish…”

“It’ll be fun,” she said in a sing-song voice. “If you need an official reason, you can call it _employee bonding_.”

She wasn’t sure how to read the expression on his face, but she hoped it was a positive response.

“You don’t want to see me drunk,” he said doubtfully.

_Step three: get Jon drunk._

Sasha grinned. “Is that a yes?”

“Fine. What time?”

“We’re meeting at the pub across from the Tube station at seven. Does that work?”

He nodded, waving her away. “Alright.”

Tim was waiting for her outside the door. “Did it work?” he whispered hopefully.

She shivered slightly as she imagined his breath on her skin. “Was there ever any doubt?”

He pumped his fist in the air in silent celebration. “Phase one complete!”

~~~

In life, good news never seems to come without bad news. In Sasha’s experience, the bad news tended to outweigh the good news, normally by a significant amount. Three wrong turns don’t make a good experience…or something.

She was too drunk to deal with _thoughts_.

Good news: Jon met them at the pub without any extra coaxing and had wasted no time getting wasted.

Bad news: Sasha had matched him almost drink for drink and was on her way to heartily drunk herself.

“Whoa there, Sasha, are you trying to drown in that?” Tim had asked as she finished off her third or fourth pint. Honestly, at this point, it was better to stop keeping track.

She had shrugged, not wanting to tell him the truth.

She did hold her alcohol _much_ better than their tiny Archivist. Jon was currently slumped against Martin, ranting about gay subtext in classical literature.

“…take Achilles and Patroclus, the poems of Sappho, even some Shakespeare works, all of it is _gay_! But the people analyzing everything are practically blind and are cowards to boot.” He paused for breath, taking a sip of his drink. Martin watched him with eyes wide as his heart and nearly as full of love.

_Step four: get affectionately drunk Martin and adorably drunk Jon to sit next to each other._

All according to plan.

Sasha scowled into her glass, jealous beyond reason for no reason at all. No reason that she would admit to herself, that is.

Tim noticed her expression. “You good, Sasha?” he was also drunk as well, his words slurring together. He had stopped drinking quite a while ago, preferring not to blackout like Jon and Sasha seemed so determined to.

Still, Sasha could tell she had her wits about her more than he did. She nodded. “The plan is working,” she whispered under cover of the extremely loud music of the pub and Jon’s continued rambles.

He smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his warm brown eyes.

She told herself it didn’t mean anything and kept drinking.

~~~

“…and that’s on homophobia.” Jon finished his rant twenty minutes and one drink later, considerably less composed than he had been earlier. He sighed almost happily, nestling into Martin’s side.

“That’s on homophobia,” Martin echoed dazedly, glancing between the man cuddling into him and his drink as if it had been making him hallucinate.

“I think that’s enough for you,” Tim said, taking Jon’s drink away from him and sloshing half of it over the side in the process.

“And for you,” Sasha said, doing the same for him.

“Actually-“ Martin checked his watch, “I’ve gotta be getting back home. Don’t want to be out too late, it takes a while to get back to my flat. Things get _weird_ on the tube at this hour.” He stood up, Jon looking bereft at the loss of contact.

“I…should go too,” he slurred.

Sasha caught Tim’s eye. “You know, Martin, I don’t think it’s safe for you to travel too far.”

“What? I’m totally fine, I didn’t drink that much-“

Tim caught on. “No, no, she’s right, Martin. You should come to stay the night at my place.”

Jon looked from Martin to Tim with a conflicted look of hope on his face. “Hecouldcomeandstayatmyflat,” he said in a rush.

“I’m sorry, what? I didn’t catch that,” Sasha said, smirking.

“Uh, Martin, ifitsokaywithyou…d’you wanna stay at mine tonight? I’m just a few blocks away, I’ve got a futon too…?”

Martin looked like someone had just handed him a check for a million dollars. “Yeah, that sounds great!” he said eagerly. “I mean if I wouldn’t be imposing on you…”

“Of course you wouldn’t, I _asked_ you too. Shall we go, then?” Jon got up from the table shakily, almost falling over. Martin wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

“Goodnight, you two,” he called over his shoulder.

Tim waved, almost hitting Sasha in the head.

“Whoops, my bad,” he said, slumping down onto the table.

She waved aside his apologies. “So…do we call that a success?”

“Give it ‘till work on Monday. But I’d say that there’s a 69 percent chance they’re together by then.”

“ _Nice_ ,” they chorused, laughing.

“I’d say maybe- uh…more close to-“ She tried to remember how math worked. “-an 83 percent chance of them starting dating by Monday.” Sasha groaned with the pain of using brain cells.

“What’s up?”

“Ugh, you know, _life_? Thoughts?”

Tim nodded sagely. “What do you say we go another round?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll go get them.”

Sasha returned to their table, drinks in hand. “Bottoms up, Stoker.”

They drank in silence for a while. She knew she would have a killer headache the next morning, but at this point, she was too deep in it to care. All she knew was she wanted to drown her feelings in alcohol. She knew it probably wasn’t healthy, but again, she didn’t much care.

After downing the last of his drink, Tim let out a sigh and rested his head on the greasy table. He mumbled something into his forearm.

“What was that?”

He turned his head, staring at her with half-open eyes. “I miss you, Sasha.”

_No- he doesn’t mean it like that, don’t take it the wrong way-_

She laughed lightly. “I’m right here, dum-dum.”

“No, you’re not, you’re so far away from me. What did I do, Sasha? How do I get you back?”

“ _I’m right here_ ,” she reassured him again. “I didn’t leave you, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

He didn’t seem to hear her, or, if he did, he kept talking. “I ruined everything, didn’t I? I know you couldn’t feel the same way, but I thought- well, I just thought I could pretend. Just for one night.”

Sasha’s heart jumped to her throat. “Tim, I- what are you talking about?”

He just shook his head and turned away, deciding he was done talking. “Nevermind. I should go.” As he stood to leave, Sasha grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, Tim.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “I lied to you.”

He sat down again, looking at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“That night. When I told you it couldn’t happen again. I said we wouldn’t work. But the truth is-“ Sasha was suddenly aware she still was gripping his wrist. She let go, but he tangled their fingers together. “I was just afraid. My feelings were _so big_ , I didn’t know what to do. I just thought…that you wouldn’t feel the same. That I was just setting myself up for heartbreak.”

Tim didn’t say anything, so she kept talking to fill the silence.

“And I know I probably ruined everything, that wasn’t fair of me. I should’ve said anything. But…I was scared. I’m sorry. I know this doesn’t change anything, but I’m drunk enough to tell you anything right now. Bad decisions under the influence, right?” She tried for a smile.

Tim gaped at her. “Wait, are you saying…all this time? You liked me?”

She nodded self-consciously. “Sorry,” she offered again.

“Sasha. How many times have I told you not to apologize?” His voice was strong now, albeit the words a bit muddled together. “If this is your fault, it’s mine too. I thought I was being selfish, so when you said we should just be friends- well, I thought that would be more than enough. I thought it would be unfair of me to confess my feelings right in the middle of you telling me we wouldn’t work out.”

Sasha squeezed his hand instinctively, not daring to hope. “Are you telling me…”

He smiled at her, this time lighting up his whole face. “Whaddya say, Sash, got room for one more bad decision?”

He leaned in slowly, giving her time to tell him to stop.

Sasha couldn’t picture a world where she would.

He hesitated for a heartbeat, a breath away from her face. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

In response, Sasha tangled a hand in the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him toward her and kissing him.

Sasha James had never been one for organized religion. God, yes, in her own way, but church? There was something broken, something so crooked about it that in each chapel she walked into she knew that no god would live there.

But here, in a crowded pub on a Friday night where the only sound she could focus on was the beating of her heart, she thought the Catholics might be on to something. As Tim ran a hand up her back, gently tugging her closer in the plastic and vinyl booth, she thought deliriously, _you could make a religion out of this._

He tasted like booze, cheap pub food, and salvation. She sighed into his mouth, feeling him shiver as she ran her fingers through his hair. Tim deepened the kiss, somehow passionate and so achingly _soft_ at once. Her free hand wandered, alternating between pulling him closer still and lightly scratching his back and scalp with her nails.

Her eyes were closed but she could feel him smiling against her mouth. Around her, the dingy pub was transformed from the home of a buzzed Friday-night impulsive decision to the seat of something holy, something budding from the blood of a mistake.

Tim pulled back after a few seconds, laughing softly. Sasha looked at him, his hair haloed by the dim lights, neon highlights streaked across his face from the street outside and felt one step closer to immortality.

“Is this- did you just-“ Tim ran a hand through his hair in disbelief, mussing it up even more than she already had.

“I missed you too,” she whispered.

He squeezed her hand. “I’m here,” he echoed. “I’m here now.”

In response, Sasha pulled him into another kiss, deciding she had waited long enough in purgatory to be allowed a taste of heaven. She bit down on his lip, savoring his soft moan. In response he traced the line of her teeth with his tongue, reminding her again and again that she was real. That she was present and more alive than she had ever felt and _kissing Tim Stoker._

He shifted slightly so he was sitting more comfortably, squeezing her waist with his hands. “You’re really here,” he murmured, brushing their noses together in what was probably supposed to be a gentle caress but turned out to be a clumsy bump.

She appreciated it all the same. In her alcohol-riddled state, she wanted nothing more than to have him kiss her into oblivion, but she retained a regrettable amount of common sense, just enough to remind her where they were.

Sasha leaned forward, tucking her legs to the side so she could rest her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating fast, even faster than her own. “Tim, I- oh, I’m _so_ drunk.”

She could hear him laugh, feel the vibrations in her bones. “Me too. That’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Yes, _yes,_ it’s alright. But we should probably get home, yeah? It’s kind of late.”

He swallowed. “You’re probably right.”

He sounded disappointed for some reason. It took her a moment before she realized what was wrong. “Do you want to come stay at my place tonight? I live closer.”

He let his head fall forward until it rested on top of hers, cocooned in their own little world. “That sounds wonderful. Thanks for looking out for me.”

Sasha sat up, rolling her eyes. “I’m not all perfect, don’t be so quick to assume the best of me. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I always see the best in you,” he said quietly.

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek quickly. “Thank you.”

To her surprise, Tim turned away, blushing. “I’m dreaming right now.”

“What can I do to convince you otherwise?” She smirked at him.

“Those are dangerous words, ma’am.”

“Oh, I know.”

~~~

Considering how much alcohol they had both drunk, Sasha was surprised at the ease with which they made it back to her flat. By the time they reached her door, she had decided she was equal parts drunk and giddy.

Even seeing Tim standing next to her, swaying slightly and clutching her hand, sent a shot of warmth straight through her veins, turning them to gold and stardust.

“I need my hand back,” she said, laughing.

Tim pouted but let go all the same.

Once she had unlocked it and let him inside, she was struck by a very obvious realization- she had brought him back to her flat. He was _here_. He was taking off his shoes by her door, staring around the dimly lit hallway with an expression akin to wonder.

“Uh, just to make one thing clear, we are both _way_ too drunk to _do_ anything tonight, especially each other, alright?”

Tim nodded, grinning mischievously. “You are, as always, incredibly smart. I do have one question-“ He tipped her chin toward him with a hand, lowering his voice. “-can I kiss you again?”

She barely had time to say the word _please_ before he was kissing her again. He crushed his mouth against hers, spinning her around and pressing her up against the wall with a passion beyond what they had shared before. He kissed her breathless, not giving her the option to do anything but let herself be devoured by his hungry hands and mouth.

Between kisses, he murmured, “Been wanting to do this for a while.”

She said nothing, rendered quite incoherent. A moan rose from the back of his throat, escaping his lips and captured by her own helpless whimper.

Sasha wrapped her arms around his neck, locking her hands together as he kissed across her cheekbones, down to her neck, dotting her collarbones, before coming back up to her mouth again.

“Let me kiss you, idiot,” she said, voice slightly hoarse. He relented slightly, letting her match his pace. “You don’t get to have all the fun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She could feel his breath tickling her ear and took the opportunity to kiss the pulse point just below his jaw, grazing it lightly with her teeth. He shuddered, nearly falling to putty beneath her lips. “ _Been wanting to do that for a while_ ,” she mimicked, feeling him laugh softly.

“I’m not stopping-“

She interrupted him with a kiss to the lips before nibbling the outer shell of his ear.

The effect was instantaneous. He made a soft noise of pleasure, losing any momentum and letting his head fall back, exposing the line of this throat. She pressed her lips to his Adam’s apple, leaving a trail of kisses down to his collarbones.

She could feel him swallow and paused to look him in the eye, breathing hard. “Is this okay?” she asked.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, very much so.”

Tim pulled her into another bruising kiss.

~~~

A very long time later, once their kisses had turned lazy and unhurried, Sasha suggested they go to bed. “I think I have one of your shirts, you can borrow it,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Oh, how generous,” he teased.

He accepted the shirt with a grin, changing in the bathroom. This gave her enough time to collect her wits once more, just enough to establish the facts of the situation.

She poured them both a glass of water and grabbed a handful of painkillers for the next morning, sliding between the covers of her bed on the side opposite the bathroom door.

When he emerged, dressed in nothing but the shirt and boxers, eyes bright and happy, she patted the space next to her.

“Sleep in here?”

He bounced down onto the bed. “Of course.”

Tim lay down, immediately molding his body around hers. He kissed the back of her neck, once, before saying, “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me. It’s more than I deserve.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

Sasha let her eyes flutter shut, content in their combined warmth. “We’ve got to talk about…us…”

“In the morning,” he agreed.

She sighed, melting into his embrace. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And she thought, for once, drifting off to sleep in his arms, with the knowledge that he would be there in the morning, and the day after that, and the day after that…that she would definitely have good dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact I forgot how to write kissing and had to rewrite the kiss scenes several times bc I was consumed with self doubt and disgust at my own writing! Please please please tell me what you think. If you tell me your favorite part I literally would sell my soul to buy you a Twinkie or something 
> 
> Title from the Hozier song bc why not


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